


Unbound Future

by DetectiveEma



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Gen, One implied relationship in the first gen, Post-Canon, The Future Past DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 08:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveEma/pseuds/DetectiveEma
Summary: When a servant's bond is broken, what happens next?[Future Past timeline.]





	Unbound Future

The girl had been content to watch the battle from wyvern-back from a safe distance. The Risen were clearly in position to overwhelm the Ylissean children as they fled through the valley. Even when mysterious soldiers appeared from nowhere to aid them, she was sure that her forces were sufficient to prevent the youths' escape.

That is, until she saw him. A white-haired man in a black robe who shouldn't have been there.

She directed her wyvern to land on the ground nearby, quickly dismounting so she could run to his side. "Master Grima!" she called out. "What are you doing out here? Please, return to the Table! It's too dangerous!"

The man gave her a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

The girl stopped in her tracks. "Huh? Wait... You're not Master Grima." But that couldn't be, could it? He had given her orders just the day before...

With a wry and apologetic smile, the man shook his head. "I think you have the wrong person. I'm not even from this world. I only just arrived to lend the Ylisseans what help I can."

The girl's hood and helmet covered her face, preventing the man from seeing her reaction. "You're from another world? Then that makes you..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. She knew exactly who he was.

But she steeled herself to keep talking to not give herself away. "No. This is dreadful news. I must alert my master that reinforcements have arrived... But..."

"You seem troubled," offered the white-haired man, his voice filled with worry.

The girl's voice was shaking. "That's not your concern! Why did you tell me you're in league with the Ylisseans? Not a sound strategy, is it? What if I'm with the enemy? I could report your arrival and summon more Risen." Her composure was shaking more and more.

The man shrugged. "I suppose. The hood does make you look a bit shady. But something in my gut tells me you're no enemy of mine."

"A tactician ought to base his judgments on more than a gut feeling," blurted the girl.

Raising an eyebrow, the man said "Oh? And how did you know I was a tactician?"

The girl bit her tongue. "I have my ways," she answered. Both of them knew it was a non-answer.

The tactician surveyed her carefully. "You know me. Or at least you know me in this world. And based on your concern before, I can only surmise I'm someone you care about. ...Isn't that right?"

Every ounce of effort the girl could give went into her facade of calmness. "So what if you are? You won't get me to talk, no matter how you torture me. I know where my allegiance lies. I trust that your...that his path is the correct one." That slip of the tongue made her wince, as much as she wanted it not to show.

"I don't know what the other me in this world is up to, but I'll tell you one thing. He's lucky to have you," the tactician said.

"I...I said that's none of your concern!" she shouted back. Her heart was nearing its breaking point. How badly had she longed to hear this voice again? These words?

The man stepped back, clearly saddened. "You're right. I overstepped my boundaries." After fishing around in his pocket, he held something out to her. "Here. Let me give you this as my way of apologizing. It's one of my favorite books. It details my basic battle strategies. Perhaps it might benefit one so obviously fond of tacticians."

The girl hesitated, but stepped forward and took the book from his hands. After a moment of thought, she spoke up. "But isn't this special to you? And more importantly, aren't you worried we'll use this against you? I could end your little crusade right here and now!"

"You could. But you won't," he answered matter-of-factly.

"What makes you so sure?!" she exclaimed.

The tactician smiled again. "You remind me of someone too. Someone very special to me. Again, it's a gut feeling, but I do not believe you wish me harm."

The two stood in silence, before he turned to return to fighting the Risen. As he left, he said, "Time is running short, and I need to go. But I'm glad we got this chance to talk." And all too swiftly, he was gone.

Dumbfounded, the girl stood there, shaking. She looked down at the book in her hands, knowing exactly what it was. She already had it, though she had long since lost the original copy. Her father had given it to her years ago. It was identical, down to the scribbled notes and folded corners. Up until now, her faith was unshakable. She was ready to kill her own friends... even her sister, if it had come to that.

But after hearing her kind and gentle father's voice, Morgan did the only thing she could do. She took off her helmet and wept.

Hours passed, and the battle was over. The Ylisseans were alive. The Risen were defeated. A weary-eyed Morgan mounted her wyvern and started it flying. She knew she would be punished for her failure. Even at that moment, consumed with pain and confusion, she could feel Grima's presence calling to her. She knew her blood gave him power over her, as much as she had once wished it were not so; a foolish hope she thought she had long-since abandoned. And yet, now this hope called to her again.

She picked a hill to land on, caring only that it was empty. Her wyvern was obedient, as Morgan herself was supposed to be. But she no longer knew what to do. Morgan threw aside her wyvern-rider armor, revealing a black coat identical to the one the tactician had been wearing. She dropped her magical axe, Hauteclere, knowing her willpower was too weak to swing it even if someone found her. After making a quick camp, she fell into a troubled sleep.

====

Morgan awoke with a start. It was as if a scream filled her mind, and her spirit was being torn asunder. She attempted to sit up, shaking uncontrollably for a long moment, unable to think, when suddenly the pain ceased and she collapsed back to the ground.

Grima was dead, and her blood's curse was over. No longer held by Grima's will, her wyvern left without her. She did not wake when the farmer found her.

====

A white shape moved across the clear blue skies: a single pegasus with two riders on her back.

"I hate patrol duty," grumbled Severa, riding in back.

"Hey, you could've turned me down when I asked you to join," replied Cynthia, riding in front. "Nobody would've blamed you for not wanting to be one of the new pegasus knights. But you took the job, and even took the job as my number two! So tough it out, alright?"

Severa gave only a "hmph" in response. Cynthia was right, of course - not that Severa would say as much out loud. She had taken the job to serve Ylisse as best she could, and she wasn't going to complain... at least, not too much.

"What was the town we're checking in on called again? North Brook?" Severa asked, to change the subject.

Cynthia frowned. "Were you even listening when I gave out the assignments? It's a farming village called Westbrook. Mostly Plegian and Valmese refugees who've been settled here for a few years."

"Right, right," came the reply, before Severa fell quiet again. "I can't believe it's only been a few weeks since we defeated Grima. It already feels like a lifetime ago."

"No argument there," Cynthia responded. "But I've been trying to keep busy re-organizing the pegasus knights. If we want the world to get back to normal, we have to keep helping it get there." Severa agreed.

Before long, their mount flew low, and they made their landing in the town square. Calling it that was generous; in reality, it was merely the crossroads at the town's center, with a few small houses nearby. A man came out to meet them.

"Hail, pegasus knight! Welcome to Westbrook!" he called from his doorway.

Cynthia grinned as she tied her pegasus to the fence near his house. "Look, Severa, we made a new friend already!" she exclaimed excitedly, earning an eye-roll from her lieutenant.

"My name's Holland," announced the man eagerly. "We've heard the good news about the fell dragon, and we'd be honored to have Ylisse's great heroes visit for a bit."

Severa gave a brief nod. "Well, I mean, we are here to check in on how things are going in this town. You can be our host so long as you bring us up to date." Cynthia echoed her with a quick agreement. Only a brief moment later, they were in the man's sitting room.

"I'm afraid we can't give much of an elaborate welcome," Holland apologized as his guests sat down. "This is just a small farming village, after all." He called over to the other room, and soon a woman and a little girl came over. He quickly introduced them as his wife Samantha and his daughter April, who hid nervously behind her mother's leg.

"We're honored to have you here, of course," Samantha said. "We may have only lived in Ylisse for a few years, but we have nothing but the highest respect for Lucina and her comrades."

Cynthia grinned. "Well we're going to keep doing our best for everyone, including you guys! So for starters, can you give me a rundown of how things have been around here lately, like --"

"Where did you get that axe?"

Cynthia turned her attention on Severa, who'd interrupted her, then followed her line of sight to the axe hanging above the mantel.

Holland fidgeted slightly. "Well see, that's as good a place as any to start. I found a traveler collapsed near the road a few weeks back, and that was just about all she had with her."

A flash of recognition went through Cynthia's mind. "Wait, that axe is..."

"I take it you've heard those old stories too, then?" Holland said. "The ones about the princess of Macedon in ancient days having a magic axe? This is either a very good replica, or the real deal. I'm not sure which."

Severa thought to herself for a moment, trying to remember when she had heard about an axe like this. Then her eyes narrowed as she came across an idea. A nearly impossible idea, but...

"This traveler you found with the axe... Where is she now?" Severa asked coldly.

Nervously, Holland looked towards the staircase in the corner of the room. "She's still upstairs in our spare bedroom. We've been taking care of her and feeding her, but she hasn't said a word. I offered her a horse to leave town with, I offered her the axe back, but she just shakes her head and goes back to bed."

Severa's suspicions were high. "Was she wearing a black coat?"

Cynthia bolted up from her chair. "Severa, you don't think it's --"

"Sh-she was, yes..." Holland answered.

Severa stood up and started to walk up the stairs without saying another word, leaving Cynthia to chase after her. Cynthia's eyes went wide when she realized her lieutenant's hand was reaching for her sword.

====

Cynthia's voice was desperate. "Severa, even if it is her, you can't --"

Severa didn't turn around, and the door to the small bedroom was thrown open. Inside was a girl in a black coat, laying on a plain bed. Her eyes were open, but she was simply staring at the wall. Her expression was blank. And a moment later, Severa's blade was pointed at her neck from a few inches away.

"Put it down, Severa, I'm begging you!" Cynthia screamed.

Severa turned to face her friend, her eyes filled with fury. "Cynthia, she was organizing the Risen for Grima! She tried to have us and our friends killed more than once! She can't be trusted!"

"Put. It. Down. Now."

"Cynthia, I --"

"She's my SISTER, Severa! Put your damn sword down!"

Severa stared in shock at Cynthia, whose eyes were filled with tears. She had never seen Cynthia like this before... at least, not since Sumia had died. "D-do you think I don't know that?" she muttered, half-heartedly.

Cynthia fixed her eyes on Severa. "Consider it a direct order from your commanding officer if you have to. Report me to Lucina if you have to. But by the gods, Severa, put your sword down. Please."

A moment of hesitation later, and the blade was returned to its sheath. Severa turned towards the door, unable to look Cynthia in the eyes again. "I-I'll go get the report from Holland," she said quietly, then went down the stairs.

Cynthia closed the door behind her, then sat down on the bed next to the girl in the black coat. Silence hung in the air for a while.

"M-Morgan? Is that really you?" Cynthia asked, nervously. No response.

"C-come on, please?" she tried again. "I-I know this must be hard, but..."

"You should've let her kill me."

Cynthia gasped, and realized Morgan had answered her. "Morgan, you can't mean that!"

Morgan sat up slightly, but kept her eyes pointed down. "It's what I deserve. I would've killed you, or Severa, or Lucina, or any of you if Grima had told me to. I couldn't have stopped myself from obeying," she said.

"But that's --"

"You were lucky, Cynthia," Morgan continued. "You took after Mother, and weren't affected by Grima's call like I was. You didn't have to... to..."

Cynthia grabbed her sister's shoulders, forcing her to look up and meet her face-to-face. "You didn't mean to! It wasn't your fault, it was Grima's!" Cynthia began to cry again. "I-I... I always knew you would come back to us someday..."

She could see that Morgan's eyes were full of pain, and soon tears as well. "How many died because of me, Cynthia? How many suffered? How can I go on bearing the knowledge that I let that happen?"

The two broke apart, as Morgan reached into her pocket. "But the worst part of all, Cynthia?" she continued. "I had given up. Really, totally given up. I had stopped resisting, thinking it would never end, that I'd never be free again. I only doubted myself again because of this." She handed her sister a small book.

Cynthia's eyes went wide with recognition as she held it. "This... this is Father's! Where did you --" She stopped mid-sentence, realizing what had happened. "You met him too, didn't you? The version of Father from the Outrealms?"

Morgan slumped back into the bed, staring at the wall once again. "When I heard his voice, free from the dragon's control, I... I broke. I couldn't function. I couldn't be free, but I could feel my heart crying to be with him again. I wanted my family back. I wanted Father, I wanted Mother, and I... I wanted you back, too."

Silence hung in the air again. "You could come back with us to Ylisstol..." Cynthia said, pleadingly.

"And how many people would have the reaction Severa did?" Morgan replied. "It would only take one you couldn't stop."

"Th-that's..."

"It's too late for me, Cynthia. I can't be forgiven for what I've done. If you won't kill me, call Severa back in."

Cynthia fell silent. She knew there had to be something she could do to change Morgan's mind, but what? She looked down at her hands, realizing she was still holding the tactics book. Something clicked, and she started flipping through the pages. A moment later, she held it open to her sister. "Look here, Morgan. Please."

Morgan looked up, exhausted. Still, she took the book, open to the second-to-last page. Written down the page's margin were a number of notes. Notes her father had written. Notes that she had read a hundred times over as a child.

* Always travel together with trusted allies. Everybody is safer with somebody guarding their back.  
* Every life counts. Aim for zero casualties, even if others declare it impossible.  
* Don't give up hope against dangerous odds. There's always a way to safety and victory.  
* Don't give in to despair. If you believe in your purpose, then you cannot fail.  
* Even if you think you have failed, focus on fixing the situation as best as you can. No defeat is permanent if you persevere.

Morgan's hands were shaking, and the page was quickly stained by fresh tears. She gently set the book down on the bed, and looked at her sister. A moment later, and Cynthia had grabbed her in a tight hug, which Morgan reciprocated.

After the two pulled apart, Cynthia spoke up again, still choked up. "B-besides... a big sis has to look out for her little sis, y-you know? I... I promised Mother I'd keep you safe before she left on that mission where..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Cynthia, I... I don't deserve you as a sister, I swear."

"W-Well too bad! You're stuck with me!" Cynthia was smiling wide. "Now come on, we're getting you back to Ylisstol!"

"Ah, Cynthia, wait!" Morgan cried, but her sister was already pulling her from the bedroom by her arm.

====

A white shape moved across the pale skies of evening: a single pegasus with two riders on her back.

"Are we sure it's okay to leave her there overnight?" Severa asked, after a long quiet.

Cynthia nodded. "She was there for weeks until now. One more night will be fine. And besides, a pegasus can't carry more than two people at a time, so I'll just pick her up tomorrow."

For another long while, there was no sound but the wind.

"Cynthia, I... I'm sorry. Neither of you deserved what I almost did," Severa said quietly.

"I forgive you. And in case you were wondering, I'm not going to tell anyone," Cynthia replied.

"W-wait, really?"

"Come on, Severa. I don't want to get you in trouble, and there's no reason to make Lucina worry about you." Cynthia smiled, although Severa couldn't see it from behind her. "And besides, I still trust you."

Severa blinked in surprise. "Y-you do?"

"Yep! You're my friend, Severa, you know that. And as my number two, I trust you with my life."

"I shouldn't have doubted you, Cynthia. Or Morgan." Severa was glad Cynthia couldn't see her embarrassment.

"Of course, I am gonna give you a whole pile of extra work when we get home as your punishment. Maybe you can count every lance in our inventory?"

Severa groaned. "I deserve this."

"You bet you do."

====

"So... that's my story," Morgan concluded. She was having trouble looking up at the Exalt in front of her, even though the room they were meeting in was empty other than the two of them.

Lucina sighed heavily. "It's quite a story indeed, Morgan. All the same, we are glad to have you back among our number."

Morgan hesitated, then asked, "Um, Lucina? Do... do you actually trust me?" She was startled when Lucina smiled and gently placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Let me make something clear, Morgan. What did my father do when he found a tactician of unsure reputation by the roadside?" asked Lucina.

"Chrom took Father in, yes, but --"

"And why did he do that?"

Morgan looked down again. "I... I don't know. I still wonder if that wasn't his most terrible mistake. My father --"

Lucina gently lifted Morgan's chin to look her in the eyes. "Morgan, do not misunderstand me. Your father did not kill mine. Grima did." Lucina stepped aside before continuing. "My father took in the tactician he found because his heart told him it was the right thing to do. And I feel the same."

"I-in that case, Exalt..." Morgan started.

"Just Lucina, Morgan. Please."

"Lucina, then. This is for you."

Morgan reached into the bag she'd brought with her from Holland's house and pulled out an impressive axe. "This is Hauteclere," she said.

Lucina took it as offered, somewhat confused. "I'm afraid I don't fully understand."

"Long ago, Hauteclere was an heirloom of the royal family of the Kingdom of Macedon," Morgan explained. "Macedon's lands are within those that belonged to Plegia before Grima arose. King Gangrel of Plegia left no heir, and so the throne fell to King Validar. As it so happens, Validar was my grandfather."

"Morgan, are you saying... that you're a princess?"

Morgan laughed slightly. "I suppose so, technically. Maybe even queen, although there's few people left in Plegia that would care. But for whatever my name, ancestry, and family's homeland are worth, I am yours. I offer you this axe as a symbol of my service."

Lucina smiled. "Very well. But I must make something clear, Morgan." Morgan looked up with a quizzical expression on her face.

"Grima bound you by force, yes?" Lucina asked, earning a hesitant nod. "Then let it be clear that you are not bound to my service, Morgan. I will gladly accept your help and your friendship, but you are free to come and go."

"I understand. Thank you."

Morgan stepped out of the meeting, sighing with relief. She pulled the well-used book back from her pocket, then opened it to the second-to-last page, re-reading the words that had changed her mind.

Then she realized there was a note on the last page that she had never seen before. That her father had written in the other world.

* No matter what happened in the past, keep fighting for a better future.

Morgan smiled sadly. "I promise, Father."


End file.
